Chapter 8 - THE CHASE
Grady drove like a man who knew prison was behind him and death might be ahead.
We followed along State Route 16.
Harris’s pickup stayed two cars behind him.
I called repeatedly.
No answer.
Then Grady took an exit toward the mountains.
“Where the hell is he going?” Ramirez asked.
I knew.
“Mill Creek.”
The old farmhouse.
Maybe not the farmhouse itself.
Something near it.
Rain began falling as the road narrowed.
Grady suddenly turned onto a dirt trail.
Harris followed.
We followed Harris.
Branches scraped both sides of our cruiser.
Then gunfire flashed ahead.
Harris’s truck swerved.
“Shots fired!”
Grady leaned from his driver’s window and fired again.
Ramirez called for backup.
I accelerated.
We broke through the trees into an abandoned quarry.
Grady stopped near the edge.
Harris stopped thirty yards behind him.
Both men got out.
Weapons drawn.
“Drop it!” I shouted.
Neither listened.
Grady laughed.
“Look who finally caught up.”
Harris shouted, “It’s over, Paul.”
“No. It was over nine years ago. You’re the one who couldn’t leave it buried.”
“Where’s Daniel?”
Grady looked at me.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“He ruined everything.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Nothing he didn’t bring on himself.”
I stepped forward.
Harris raised an arm.
“Mark, stay back.”
Grady smiled.
“There it is. Good old Sam protecting the Morgan boys.”
I stared at Harris.
Grady continued.
“You never told him?”
“Shut up, Paul.”
“That you took forty grand?”
“I used it to get Daniel out.”
Grady laughed.
“You stole my money and bought him a new identity.”
So Harris had told the truth.
At least about that.
“Where is Daniel now?” I asked.
Grady’s smile disappeared.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether Ryan talks.”
“You’re blackmailing us with Daniel.”
“No.”
Grady shook his head.
“Ryan is.”
That surprised me.
“He arranged the kidnapping?”
“Ryan arranged everything.”
“Then why did he chase Evan into the station?”
“Because Evan found the bracelet. Ryan panicked.”
Grady looked exhausted now.
“For years, Ryan thought Daniel was dead. Then somebody sent him a photo three months ago.”
“Who?”
Grady slowly looked at Harris.
My stomach dropped.
Harris stared back.
“I didn’t.”
Grady’s eyes narrowed.
Then a rifle shot cracked from the tree line.
Grady spun and fell.
Harris fired toward the woods.
“DOWN!”
Ramirez and I dove behind the cruiser.
More shots slammed into metal.
A figure moved between the trees.
I chased.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
He ran down a steep path.
I followed until he reached a parked pickup.
He turned.
It was Ryan’s attorney.
The same man from the cabin.
Except this time, he had a rifle.
“Stop!”
He aimed.
I fired first.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
He fell.
Ramirez reached us seconds later.
We cuffed him.
“Who sent you?” I demanded.
He laughed through clenched teeth.
“You still think Ryan’s the boss?”
“Who is?”
He stared at me.
“You already met her.”
My blood chilled.
“Who?”
May you like
His smile widened.
“Rachel.”
